When I was a kid learning to play the organ (or Electone, as Yamaha thoughtfully branded it), one of my favorite things was a feature called “minipops.” It allowed me to just press a three-note combination with my left hand, and the instrument would churn out a fully arranged accompaniment, with drums, rhythm, bass and embellishments. I could play disco, pop, rock, big band, and a variety of latin beats without hardly any effort.
It was great fun back then, since I was just beginning to explore different genres of music, and had hardly any dexterity in my left hand. With just the push of a button and the press of a few keys, I could hear how songs would sound in slow rock, dixieland, and reggae. Now that I can actually play, I hardly use the feature. But I think it’s great for people just fooling around, or just learning to play.
What bugs me is that these days, there’s a whole revolution in what I call “minipops music.” Like I said, the feature is great for people having fun or learning to play… but to create an entire industry around it is simply disgusting. To commercialize something that involves neither art nor skill is just wrong.
I’m talking about today’s “bossa revolution”, and I call it “minipops music” because it has just as much art as when I was a kid switching the genres of songs through the minipops function. It’s exactly the same as the original version—melody, chords, lyrics, and structure—except you press the “bossa nova” button to change the entire rhythm section, and have it sung by a poor facsimile of a bossa singer. There’s absolutely no original thought involved, and I’d like to know who these sellout arrangers are who make such perfunctory changes and dare call it a new arrangement.
And it’s everywhere! Racks upon racks of CD’s in music stores are lined with “Bossa Carpenters”, “Bossa Bacharach”, “Bossa Beatles.” James and I have walked out of shops and restaurants just because the bossa versions of “Close to You” and “What the World Needs Now” started playing.
I’ve wanted to blog about it for a long time, but never got around to it. But today, having spent six days in Boracay next to a tacky resort whose sound system is all too loud, I’ve been drowning in pseudo-bossa versions of The Police’s “Every Breath You Take”, Kylie Minogue’s “Can’t Get You Out of My Head”, and Santana’s “Smooth.” And with all that crap ringing in my ears, who can I not write about it?
Bossa is not simply about the bossa beat, lazy rhythm sections, sloppy intonation, poor enunciation, and an airy vocal timbre. Bossa is about the sultry soul of
And the art of arranging is not about making perfunctory changes. And arranging is about introducing something new to a song, to make the listener hear, think, and feel something he never did before from that song.
I dare anyone to listen to original recordings of Antonio Carlos Jobim, Astrud Gilberto, or even Lisa Ono—and tell me it all sounds the same anyway.
